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It was on a Sabbath evening, towards the latter end of the month of July, that the Rev. Mr. Lloyd, curate of Tintern, in Monmouthshire, set forth to visit his daughter Hester, who resided in one of those romantically situated cottages, which form so interesting a feature in the mountainous scenery of the Wye, between Ross and Chepstow. The distance he had to go, was scarcely a mile; but the walk was toilsome, for his path lay among the hills, through which it was rudely cut, and the loose fragments of rock on which he trode gave way at every step. His thoughts, however, were too much occupied with the sad object of his visit, to permit of his heeding the rugged road, or even the sublime beauties of nature which were spread around him.

Hester was his eldest daughter, and the eldest also of nine brothers and sisters; a large family to feed, clothe, and educate, upon the scanty stipend of his curacy, though eked out by a small patrimonial property, and a fortune of two hundred pounds, which he had with his wife. When all was put together, and the profits of a small school added, as well as those which he received from the sale of a quarto volume "On the Dawnings of the Everlasting Gospel Light," Parson Lloyd was a somewhat poorer man than his neighbor, Farmer Morgan, who always boasted that he could

spend a hundred and twenty pounds a-year, and pay everybody their own. But Farmer Morgan, at last, did not pay everybody their own; for he went into the Gazette, and there were only three shillings in the pound for his creditors, while parson Lloyd contrived to make both ends meet; perhaps, because he took care never to have a creditor, always deferring the purchase of anything he wanted till he could spare the money to pay for it.

"He who makes his necessities wait upon his means," he would often say, "will never find them troublesome; but reverse the order, and let your means be the drudges of your necessities, and run as fast as they may, they will never overtake them."

Hester Lloyd had married Farmer Morgan's second son, David; and it was always said, by those who pretended to know the secret, that she did so, more from a desire to diminish the heavy burden of her father's family, than from any violent affection she had for the young man. To say the truth, they were a mismatched pair. David was a coarse rustic, of violent passions, a moody temper, and suspected of dissolute habits. Hester, on the contrary, was mild and gentle in disposition, affectionate, and trained up in the strict observance of those simple, unobtrusive virtues which became the comparative humility of her

station, and the character of her parental roof. When, therefore, she married David Morgan, some shook their heads, and pitied the poor girl for the sacrifice she made; while others turned up their eyes, and wondered how even Love could be so blind.

The union had neither the approbation, nor the disapprobation, properly so called, of Hester's father. She was of an age to choose discreetly (having passed her three-and-twentieth year,) when, as was certainly her case, the heart did not take the lead in choosing; and he left her, therefore, to decide for herself, after temperately discussing with her, upon several occasions, whatever might fairly be urged in favor, or to the prejudice, of the young man. Hester, herself, took a twelvemonth to consider of her decision; and finally yielded her consent to the pertinacious, rather than the ardent, solicitations of David Morgan.

It has been said by an ancient cynic, that marriage has only two happy days, the first and the last; but Hester was doomed to find even this stinted portion of matrimonial felicity too liberal an allowance. On their return from church, an unfortunate difference arose between her husband and her father upon some trifling subject of rural economy-the breeding of pigs, or the cultivation of barley, or some matter not a whit more important. David was loud, overbearing, and at last insolently rude. Nay, he so far forgot himself, at one moment, that his hand was raised to seize Mr. Lloyd by the collar. "Forbear, young man!" said the reverend pastor mildly; "and learn to have more command over your passions; or they will one day hurry you into conduct which all the rest of your days may not be sufficient to atone for."

David felt the rebuke. He felt ashamed. He saw the cheek of Hester turn pale, and he felt sorrow for what he had done. But his father-inlaw also felt the indignity that had been offered to him, and he slowly

walked away towards his own house. Hester looked after him. She said nothing. She only thought, as she leaned upon her husband's arm, and proceeded silently towards his father's house, what a change one little half hour had wrought in her condition. Her now obedient steps went one way; her heart, at that moment, another. The former taught her she was a wife; the latter, that she must cease to be a daughter. It was a sharp lesson, to come so early. She said nothing. But though her tongue spoke not, the uneasy reflections of David clothed it with words of bitterness; and he strove, as much as his nature would let him, during the rest of the day, to dispel the gloom with which his violence of temper had clouded the beginning. Hester was neither angry nor sullen; but she was sad; and she could not conceal that her sadness was greatest, when, as she sate down to dinner, the marriage feast lacked one guest, whose absence was to her, if not the absence of all, at least the absence of all comfort.

Mr. Lloyd was a sincere Christian. Without any parade of sanctity, he diligently endeavored, in all his dealings with his fellow-creatures, to fulfil the commands of Him whose minister he was. He could not, therefore, let the sun go down upon his wrath; but, like a primitive disciple of his master, he sought the dwelling of his enemy, with the word of peace and the hand of fellowship. So pure a judge had he been in his own cause, that he considered he had done wrong, very wrong, in suffering himself to be kept away from the wedding-table of his daughter, by his resentment for a hasty speech uttered by her husband. "I will go," said he, "and heal this wound before I sleep." And he did go and it was a blessed sight for Hester to behold, as she saw her father enter, with a benignant smile upon his countenance, walk up to her husband, and taking him by the hand, exclaim, "Son, we have never been enemies; let us then continue to be friends!" David was overpowered

by this unexpected display of meek goodness; and his voice really faltered as he replied, grasping Mr. Lloyd's hand with honest warmth, "God forbid we should not!" Hester kissed her father, and wept; but they were tears of much gladness. It was a peaceful evening after this. Mr. Lloyd showed, by his cheerful conversation, and kindly manner, that the spirit of anger had entirely departed from him, and with it all recollection of the offence. David did not shake off, quite so soon, his remembrance of the morning; for he was vanquished, in spite of himself, and he felt as a man generally does who commits a wrong, and finds coals of fire heaped upon his head, by the generous conduct of the person whom he has wronged-humbled and ashamed, in his presence. Hester was supremely happy; for she beheld her father and her husband side by side, under her own roof.

Months rolled on, and the neighbors began to think David Morgan quite an altered man since his marriage. He was civil and obliging; went regularly to church every Sunday; rose early to his work; attended to his farm; returned home sober, and before dark, on market-days; got into no quarrels; smoked his pipe in the evening, on a bench before his own door, and drank a pint or two of his own home-brewed ale. In short, he exhibited all the outward qualities of a steady, thriving, and industrious farmer; and it was prophesied, if he went on so, that he would soon become a better man than his father, by the difference of many an acre added to those which he already rented. Hester observed this auspicious change, and might almost be called a happy wife.

She was not entirely so; for there were out-breakings of temper at home, lightning-flashes of the mind, and distant thunder murmurings of the heart, which the eyes and ears of friends and neighbors nor saw nor heard. The sky was clear above-the sun shone brightly-but the elements of storm and tempest perpetually loured along 38 ATHENEUM, VOL. 2, 3d series.

the horizon, which the first gust of wind would drive into angry collision. To Hester's watchful eye alone, and to her anxious spirit, were these signs revealed. She could not conceal from herself the trials and the dangers they hourly menaced; but she could conceal them from all the rest of the world, and she did. Not even to her father did she speak of them. They were the griefs of her own foreboding heart, and they were buried there. If they should ever be disinterred thence-if they should ever be realised-and write themselves in such characters upon her face as she could not hide-if her countenance complained for her-she must submit ; but till then, she was resolved hope should chasten fear, and the faith she plighted at the altar forbid her lips to become the accusers of her husband.

It was about two years after her marriage, that the bankruptcy of old Morgan happened. For some months previously, Hester suspected matters were going wrong; not from anything which her husband communicated to her, for he had grown reserved, sullen, and morose; but from the manner of the old man himself, from their frequent conferences in secret, and from his total neglect of his farming stock. David, too, instead of minding his own affairs, and looking after his own crops, or attending the markets, as he was accustomed to do, sold hand over head upon the ground; took the first price that was offered; replaced nothing which he sold, but kept the money, and talked of setting up, by and by, as an innkeeper at Chepstow. Meanwhile, debts were contracted, and none were paid; creditors became clamorous, and David grew more and more reckless of their clamors. At first he could not pay; at last he would not, and they might do as they liked. If Hester ventured to remonstrate, she was churlishly told to mind her own business, and look after the house, though there was every day less and less in it to look after; for whatever could be spared, and often what could not, was converted into money. Old Morgan

pursued much the same course; and it seemed as if father and son were striving with each other who should make most speed in the race of destruction.

"I am thinking," said Jacob, with a heavy groan, that burst from him as he spoke-"I am thinking, Mrs. Morgan, how my poor sister Jane would have taken it to heart if she were alive now, which, thank God, she is not! But the Lord help us! what we may come to in this world !"

Hester's knees tottered-her color fled-and she seated herself gently by his side, as she exclaimed in a tremulous voice, "What is the matter, Jacob, that you talk thus ?"

The old man shook his head, while he answered, "Matter enough, I fear, but who would have thought it ?"

Has

"For God's sake," replied Hester, "tell me what it is you mean. anything happened to David ?"

Thus matters went on from bad to worse, and from worse to worst, for nearly three months; and then old Morgan was made a bankrupt. Every one predicted that David would soon follow; but every one lamented it at the same time, on account of poor Hester, who was universally respected. Indeed, it was mainly owing to this feeling of respect for her, that her husband's creditors had not either enforced their claims, or thrown him into a prison. They did not scruple to tell her so; and though she felt grateful for their kindness, she knew it was Ay," said Jacob, "and his father a forbearance that hung by a very too. I was coming into Monmouth slender thread, and each day she ex- to-day at noon, and had just crossed pected to see him dragged to jail. If over the Munny bridge, when I saw a that did happen, what was to become sight of people afore me; I walked of her, far advanced in pregnancy up to them to find out, if I could, with her second child, and not a roof what was going on-and you might to shelter her except her father's? have knocked me down with a feather, the next moment-for what should I see but David and his father, old George Morgan, handcuffed together like two thieves, and being led to prison? They did not see me, and I was glad on't; for I couldn't have spoke a word to them, my tongue stuck so to the roof of my mouth, like. I shall never forget how I shook."

She was sitting one evening, sadly ruminating upon all these things, and expecting David's return, who had gone out early in the morning, she knew not whither, when Jacob Griffiths, a maternal uncle of her husband's, a respectable, but poor old man, dropped in. He sate down, and she drew him a mug of ale, which, however, he scarcely touched. She talked to him, first upon one subject, and then upon another; but he hardly answered her, and altogether his behavior was so strange, that she looked at him as if she thought he had already had a little too much; a failing which she knew sometimes overtook "uncle Jacob." She was soon convinced, however, that the old man was not now in his cups, whatever else might be the matter with him, for he was leaning forward on his staff, which he held with both his hands, and the tears were trickling down the furrows of his sun-burnt face.

"In the name of heaven, Jacob, what ails you?" said Hester, laying down her work, and going towards him.

"Are you sure you were not mistaken?" inquired Hester, in a tone of voice so thick and inarticulate, that Jacob suddenly raised his head from the staff on which he had continued to support it.

"Am I sure this is my right hand ?” answered Jacob." But, Lord preserve you! what ails you, Mrs. Morgan? You look as white as your apron; you are not faintish, sure? Here, take a sup o' this ale-'twill warm you, like, and do you good."

Hester was indeed pale enough; and she trembled so violently, that Jacob might well suppose she needed something to warm her; but she kept from fainting, and after a few minutes she was able to ask him whether he

knew what they had done, that they it might not come ? were taken to prison ?"

"I could not get at the rights of the matter," said Jacob; "but from what I understood, I should guess it was something about old Morgan's bankrupt job; though I don't see, for my part, how that could concern David."

"Nor I either," replied Hester, wiping her eyes, and sighing as if her heart would break. "But whatever it is, I have had the dread of it upon my spirits for these many months. I felt certain that some misfortune or other was hanging over me and it has come at last. My husband's conduct was so changed, he had grown so careless about everything, had so entirely neglected his affairs and his home, that I was sure, unless some change for the better took place, no~ thing but ruin could come of it in the end. Oh dear! God knows, my situation is bad enough, just now, at any rate." And Hester's tears flowed afresh, as the thought of what her situation was presented itself to her mind. "Don't take on this way, Mrs. Morgan," said Jacob, "After all, things may not be so bad as they appear; and be they never so bad, fretting, you know, won't mend them. It is a sad business, to be sure; but we must hope for the best. Besides, many an innocent man has been wrongfully suspected, and taken to prison, before now; and who knows but this may be David's case, ay, and old Morgan's too? So keep up your spirits, Mrs. Morgan, and don't grieve, Here, take a drop of ale."

Hester had much cause to grieve, She had said truly, that the conduct of her husband, for a long time past, had been such as to prepare her for trouble of some kind or other; and her grief, therefore, on the present occasion, was less acute than if she had fallen suddenly from the sunny height of domestic happiness by an unforeseen and unexpected blow. But who ever found himself sufficiently prepared for misfortune? Who, till it came, ever ceased to hope that

And who, when

it comes, can say, I have watched for you so long with a troubled heart, that now you find me without a tear to sned, or a sigh to breathe? Alas! the stern reality has a pang of its own unlike that we feel in the most vivid anticipation. Does the child you love, the mistress you adore, the parent you venerate, lie on the bed of death? What though you have whispered this fatal secret to yourself again, and again, and again? What though your spirit have mourned over the dying object, in all the anguish of inevitable bereavement ? Ah me! wait till the eye is closed, and the tongue is mute-forever; tarry till the soul is departed-till the thing you dreamed is the thing you feeland then you will know the difference between the fear of losing, ay, and even between what constitutes mere man's certainty of losing, and the miserable certainty that you HAVE lost.

Hester felt this difference. She had insensibly trained her mind to meet an undefined calamity; but now, when it came upon her in a specifie shape and character, she almost sunk beneath the shock. It was too true what Jacob Griffiths had told her. David and his father were both in Monmouth jail; and they were there upon a charge of having contrived, and brought about, a fraudulent bank, ruptcy in the case of old Morgan, under such circumstances as made it doubtful, at one time, whether their lives would not be forfeited. Matters, however, were not pushed to that extremity; but they were tried, found guilty, and received sentence of transportation, the father for life, and David for fourteen years. Hester was far advanced in pregnancy when her husband was thrown into prison; and the very day on which the Judges entered Monmouth, she became the unhappy mother of a son, whose father, scarcely more than eight-and-forty hours afterwards, was branded as a felon by the verdict of a just and impartial jury.

She had visited him several times in jail before his trial, and administer

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